Trials And Tribulations
by TheMainProtagonist
Summary: In a family of traditions and affinity, Melissa Weasley just doesn't seem to fit in. When she starts at Hogwarts, however, she discovers that not all beliefs and defamations are right. In a kid eat kid world, can she find a place where she does?
1. Sorting

**Chapter One**

"Are you excited?" My snob of a cousin, Rupert, asked me pompously as we walked down the grimy strip of concrete that was Platform 9 ¾- the platform from which we would catch our train to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"No," I replied dully. I was the last of my family to start at the freaking school- I'd been hearing about it my whole life. Did you know it has five towers? And that the Gryffindor common room is the largest of all of them? Or that gold and red are much nicer than green and silver, which don't go together at all? No, I wasn't excited about starting at Hogwarts. Resigned, yes. But happy- no.

"Why ever not?" Rupert stopped his lengthy explanation of the Hogwarts curriculum and stared at me in surprise.

I rolled my eyes at him. "'Cos I'm going to be stuck in the same building as all of you," I replied, gesturing vaguely behind me to where my cousins and siblings were already chatting animatedly with their friends.

"Not just the same building," Rupert corrected me, "but even the same common room. Have I told you that the Gryffindor colours are red and gold?"

"Many a time," I said sarcastically, kicking him in the shin.

Instead of reacting how a normal person would, Rupert just frowned at me. "What did you do that for?" he asked calmly.

"You're being a stuck up prat," I answered over my shoulder, desperate to get away from him. Unfortunately my parents were blocking my escape route.

"Mel!" my mum crowed, bearing down on me with her arms open. I skilfully dodged and gave her a disdainful frown.

She ignored it and stepped back, glancing anxiously at her husband- my dad- to see whether he had noticed it. As usual, he was too busy chatting happily to my brothers about Quidditch to notice the fact that his daughter had been 'hostile'.

"Well, honey," she said in a sickly sweet tone, "We'll be so proud of you when you get into Gryffindor. Won't we, George?" she added, shooting a stern glance at dad. He looked over and nodded, surprised, as if he hadn't noticed I was there.

I scowled. "What makes you think I'll get into Gryffindor?" I asked rudely.

My brother, Travis, heard me and agreed. "Yeah, she'll probably be in Slytherin," he said, poking his tongue out at me.

My mother gasped. "No! No one in this family is getting into Slytherin," she said firmly, then looked sideways at Travis. "And I don't want to hear that again. Understood?"

I sighed, already bored with the proceedings. I just wanted to get on the train and way from these people. "Can I go now?" I asked bluntly.

"Sure," mum answered distractedly. She was busy polishing my brother's Head Boy badge.

My whole family- cousins included- have been put into Gryffindor, ever since I can remember and before. My mother had been in it, my father was in it, my eldest sibling, Camellia, had been in it. My oldest brother, Stephen, was in it and Head Boy. My next brother, Carter, was sixth year, Gryffindor, and a prefect. My other two brothers, Julius and Travis, were in fourth and third years respectively. Gryffindor house was really more like Weasley house- there was at least one in every year.

There was never any doubt among the family- except maybe for Travis- that I was going to be placed in Gryffindor. Where I 'belonged'. All my cousins that attend Hogwarts were in Gryffindor too.

I lugged my trunk onto the fire-engine red train, just as the steam began to come out of the funnel, and walked down the passage, searching for a compartment to sit in. I went through the next few carriages, and soon I could see that I wouldn't find an empty one, as I had hoped. I passed cousins and siblings, but none of them even gave me a second glance. In my family, I was in the 'outer circle'.

I barged into the next one and stood in the doorway. "Can I sit here?" I asked flatly, not waiting for an answer before I put my luggage in the overhead rack.

The boy sitting in there looked up from whatever he was doing and rolled his eyes. "Looks like you didn't give me a choice," he said good-naturedly. He had black hair and brown eyes, but he had a mischievous look about him. I knew I didn't want to sit with this kid, but I glanced back out and knew I had no choice. Everywhere else was full.

I groaned and sat down loudly. He stared at me for a few moments before trying to start up a conversation. "My name's Finn Hunter," he said.

"That's nice," I said.

"Aren't you going to tell me yours?" he asked, when it became clear to him I wasn't going to say anything more.

"No," I scoffed. I avoided his penetrating stare by glancing around the cabin. It was old and drab, there were several burn marks where previous students had exploded things that had melted onto the walls.

"Are you going to be in first year?" he asked, as if he couldn't stand the silence.

"What does it look like?" I sneered.

He nodded in answer to his question. "I think that's a yes," he said to himself, as if he were trying to be funny.

"So," he said slowly.

I ignored him and spent the rest of the time staring out the window and the boring country scenery. It was going to be a long ride.

"Firs' years, over 'ere!" a voice called when I stepped out of the compartment. Thankfully, as soon as I stepped out of the carriage Finn hadn't tried to follow. I think he got the point that I wasn't particularly keen on him.

We were at a station, although smaller and less grand than the one at Platform 9 ¾. Rolling green hills surrounded it, and in the distance I could just make out a castle, but before that I could see the faint glimmer of water. I knew we were expected to cross a lake, but judging by the confused whisperings of several other students, they didn't.

I followed the rush of students as they made their way over to a giant, burly man with a tangle of curly black beard. He held a lantern up high in the evening sky as he led the way down a small track to the edge of the lake. Resting on the sandy shore were about ten or so boats, all small and brown and wooden. They looked as if they'd barely be able to carry a bunch of first years, let alone a giant man ten feet tall.

"All right," he said in his poor grammar. "Four to a boat! Come on, come on! We don't 'ave all night," he said loudly, as the kids at the front meekly went a bit closer.

I rolled my eyes and sighed loudly, shoving past a couple of kids who made no attempt to get into the rickety boats. "Hurry up," I said harshly.

Although they looked startled, several students followed my example and we were in a boat that magically started to row by itself, taking us away from the group and across the vast expanse of water. I turned to study my shipmates.

One was a girl, who had thick dark curls that tumbled down past her shoulders. She glanced at me and I could see that she had dark blue eyes, and several freckles. She looked pale and scared.

I moved onto the next boy. He was tall, with fair hair and green eyes. He was staring eagerly towards the castle.

The last- to my surprise- was Finn Hunter, the boy who had been in my compartment. He was studying our classmates too, and when he got to me was watching me slyly.

"What?" I asked abruptly.

"Nothing," he replied coolly. He turned to the boy. "What's your name?" he asked.

The boy smiled at him. "I'm Joel O'Weill," he said cheerfully.

"Finn Hunter," Finn replied, equally up-beat. Then he said to the girl, "Hi. What's yours?"

"I'm Saskia Bartlett," she replied, not sounding nearly as scared she looked. Then all three unanimously turned to look at me expectantly.

I stayed sullenly silent.

"Well," the girl, Saskia, prompted. "What's you name then?"

"Do you want to know?" I asked lazily.

"Yeah," Joel said, waiting.

"I don't think I'll tell you," I replied dismissively, turning away from them to focus on the school. It was very large now, and I could see everything my siblings had talked about- the towering turrets, large archways and the overall huge building. It was almost beautiful, in a strange way. I could see that the other students had already arrived and were in the Great Hall, judging by the brilliant light coming from what most probably was a large room. In any case, it was a series of lit up windows.

The boat bumped up against the lake edge, and Saskia and Joel got out. I was at the back of the boat, and just as Finn went to get out he suddenly slipped and elbowed me- right out of the boat, into the murky dark water below.

I was not a very confident swimmer, as I had never really felt any need to go swimming. It wasn't often hot where I lived, and when it was I just dealt with the heat. I was sorry to say that I almost had a phobia of water.

"Augh!" I shrieked and went under. I was panicking and the water rushed into my lungs and made me choke. My eyes were burning and I flailed about, trying to scream but only getting a mouthful of water for my trouble.

The next time I surfaced, however, someone shouted a very surprising thing: "Stand up!" And I did. It turned out I could stand up perfectly, with my head and even shoulders well above the water level. When I finally felt that I could look up, Finn was standing there, laughing hysterically. Saskia and Joel didn't look all that sympathetic, either.

Other students were all staring curiously towards us, some smirking and some looking confused. I summoned all the dignity I could and held my head high. "You'll pay for that, Hunter," I said in the most threatening tone I could manage.

Finn only laughed harder. "Oh really," he said when he managed to calm himself somewhat, "and you are just so _scary_." He doubled over in laughter again.

I glared at him in scorn before stalking out of the lake. Unfortunately my shoe became caught in the mud, so I had to double back and actually go face first into the water to reach it.

By the time I caught up to the rest of the group, soaked, muddy and miserable, they were just entering Hogwarts. "I heard that we have to fight a lion," one girl whispered to her companion.

I scoffed loudly enough for them to glance over. A lion? As if. "So the would-be Hufflepuffs have to fight a badger, then?" I asked, feigning curiosity.

The girl blushed and the students within hearing distance laughed.

"Ahem," a voice said, cutting the laughter short. A stately woman in a tall pointing hat cleared her throat. She looked quite old, but not in a feeble sort of way. "I am Professor McGonagall, head of Gryffindor House. In a moment you will be sorted into your houses. They are; Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin."

"I guess we know were you're going, don't we?" a voice whispered in my ear. I looked over and wasn't startled to see Finn there, smirking at me as he surveyed the puddle that had appeared around me.

"Your house will be like your family for the time that you are at Hogwarts." McGonagall finished. She went through the doors, during which time I caught a glimpse of one of the tables. Would I be sitting there tonight?

"We are ready for you," she said, coming back out importantly. She thrust the doors open and the first years filed down the aisle. I was in the middle of the group, and I looked to my left, at the Gryffindor table. I passed Stephen, Carter and my twin cousins Erin and Ewan, sitting towards the other end of the table. Evidently the older you were, the higher up the table you got to sit.

After the sorting hat did it's little song and dance (of which most of the first years were suitably impressed) McGonagall said her little speech about not going into the forbidden forest, banned items on Filch's list, and the head boy and girl. "This year," she said, "the Head boy and girl are: Stephen Weasley and Jessica Mildrich!" I had no idea who this Mildrich girl was, but I didn't clap. The freaking prat hadn't stopped going on about his little badge since he got the letter in the mail.

"And now we will begin the sorting," she said, holding up a scroll and reading the first name. "Alberts, Rosalind," was the first one.

A scrawny, plain girl with dull blonde hair walked up to the hat and put it on. After what was probably less than a minute, the hat proclaimed, "Hufflepuff!"

"Avenell, Cameron," was next on the list. The last name sounded familiar, but I couldn't figure out why.

After a few minutes, during which it looked like they were arguing, the hat screamed, "Slytherin!" The boy looked neither glad nor happy about this, but I saw him sweep an eye up and down the table wearily before taking a seat closest to the front.

"Bartlett, Saskia," was that girl who had been in the boat. The one who hadn't helped me out of the lake, or even told Hunter off. A minute later, "Gryffindor!" was yelled out. I sighed; I honestly didn't want to share a house with that one.

Name after name was read out. Some took a long time, but others, such as "Dolohov, Irana," only had to have the hat lowered above their head before the house was called out.

"Hunter, Finnulas!" made me look up from staring at the back of a frayed cloak in front of me. The kid that had pushed me into the lake, and then laughed, was sitting on the stool. He took a few minutes, before the hat yelled, "Gryffindor!" and the table burst into applause.

Finally, "Walker, Arjun," was called out and placed in "Ravenclaw!" I was next.

"Weasley, Melissa!" I rolled my eyes and stepped forward. There was only one other person left. I sank onto the stool and the tattered hat was placed on my head.

"Hmm," it thought. "Yet another Weasley." _I'm the last one,_ I thought back ruefully. "So I see." The hat answered. "Ravenclaw's no good. Not that sharp, apparently." _I'm smarter than some people I know are,_ I thought indignantly. The hat ignored me. "Hufflepuff's no good either. Gryffindor- you don't possess all the qualities, but I could make allowances- what's that? A thirst to prove yourself, like so many before you… Yes, you would do well in Slytherin." _I'm not a pureblood_, I objected. "But you have more of the qualities than Gryffindor," the hat thought, waiting for my reply. When I had none, it shouted, "Slytherin!"

* * *

**A/N: **If you would be so kind as to review, your thoughts would be very much appreciated. Thank you! 


	2. Conversations

**Chapter Two**

I walked numbly over to the Slytherin table, not quite believing it. How could I have been placed in Slytherin? Hadn't I been told all my life that I 'belonged' in Gryffindor? _Yes, but the hat didn't agree,_ a niggling voice in my head argued.

I was the first Weasley to have been placed in Slytherin since- well, ever. It had never happened before. All Weasleys were Gryffindors- everyone knew that. _Haven't you always wanted to be different?_ The voice asked. I sighed- this would be a sure-fire way to get mum and dad to notice me.

I looked over at the Gryffindor table, beyond the Ravenclaws. I could see Travis, smirking at me and mouthing, '_freak_'. Was that what I was? A freak of the family? I didn't care, anyway, I told myself huffily. I didn't care about our family. I never had.

A little way down from Travis I could see Julius, chatting eagerly with his friends as if nothing had happened. I decided that from now on, I would completely ignore them until it was time to go home. Then, when the holidays were over I would resume my no-associating-with-anyone-related-to-me rule. Besides, it wasn't like I even talked to them at home, anyway.

"Hey," the person said next to me.

I nodded tersely in response. "Hey."

"Cameron Avenell," he said, resting an elbow on the table. He had short black hair and green eyes that stared at me curiously.

"Melissa Weasley," I answered, not saying anything more than what was expected.

"A Weasley?" Cameron asked, the disbelief written on his face.

I shrugged and rolled my chocolate-brown eyes. "Yeah," I had to say. In this house I could expect to be known as many things- a mudblood, a blood-traitor, a mudblood blood-traitor. Which doesn't even make sense, but hey- we're kids, we can call each other any cruel names we want.

"Weird," he managed, before the food appeared on the table and he dug in. In between mouthfuls, he asked, "So why're you in Slytherin?"

"Because she's evil, like the rest of us," a girl opposite us answered for me, grinning wryly at me.

He shrugged. "I'm not evil…" He glanced around but when he saw someone staring hard at him he straightened up, and didn't say anything more.

"Lacey Patterson," the girl said, flipping her smooth blonde hair. "And just so you know, if you ever call me Lace I will personally crucify you."

That was how things were done in Slytherin- curses were taken lightly, treated as an everyday part of life. It was strange, in my family if we ever even mentioned it our mother would wash our mouth out with soap.

I lifted the corners of my mouth in what could pass as a smile for me. "Fancy being called Lacey."

"Fancy being a Weasley," she returned.

"Touche," I replied bitterly.

It turned out Lacey Patterson's father was a rich business mogul who expected to marry her off. Lacey saw no need to study or even look remotely interested in school work, because as she said, "why study when I'm never going to be allowed to get a job anyway?"

Halfway through dinner, a stout boy with blonde hair and cold grey eyes further down the table called out to me. "Hey, mudblood," he laughed cruelly.

"Yeah inbred?" I asked coolly.

"Why you-" He jumped off his seat and marched straight up to me. "How dare you," he began, holding his wand in front of my face.

"How dare you call me a mudblood," I said, drawing out my own wand. But I didn't defend my family, either.

"Well you are!" he insisted, poking me with the wand.

"And you're an inbred!" I mimicked in the exact tone he had used. By then most of the Slytherin looked on in interest, curious to see how the 'blood-traitor' would react. Some Ravenclaws were surveying us inquisitively, too.

"Children, play nice," I looked up to see a prefect smirking lazily at us. I wasn't stupid- contrary to what the battered old hat thought- I knew that if I just left it at that, I would be picked apart by my classmates until I couldn't stand it any more. But I also knew if I did anything, I would get detention and lose my house points. Did I really want to do that and have my house mad at me?

Sure I did. I jabbed the kid again with my wand and went to walk away, before turning around and yelling, "_Laconus_!" It happened to be a spell my dad and Uncle Fred invented. It made red love hearts appear on whatever you aimed the spell at- in this case it was his cloak, which was instantly covered in little red hearts.

"Detention! 30 points off!" A teacher snarled, whom I hadn't noticed until then. Obviously though, he had noticed my little 'trick' and me.

I turned triumphantly to Cameron and Lacey, but they averted their eyes and stared at the table. Evidently everyone in Slytherin was going to be siding with this idiot instead of me. I had not collected any admirers, unlike this kid who was almost bawling his eyes out at the sight of his cloak.

Slytherin was now in the 'minus' range for points. I hadn't even been here for a day and was already making my house come last.

The feast was over by now, and students had begun to slowly trickle through the doors back to their common rooms. I started to follow a prefect who announced that she would show the first years where the common room was, put stopped when someone put a hand on my shoulder.

"Mum isn't going to be happy, you know," Travis said idly.

I snorted. "Since when is mum ever happy?"

"She'll cross you off the family tree, just like those stuck up purebloods," Trav said, still chewing on something.

"We don't _have_ a family tree, Einstein," I informed him acridly.

He glanced back at me. "Yeah, we do," he said. "Camellia made it one year. It's got everyone on it, even that aunt in Africa we never see."

Well, of course _Camellia_ made it. Perfect, pretty Camellia. Prefect, Head Girl, graduated with top honours. She was the golden girl, everyone else were merely the 'others'. It was always, "so where is Camellia and the other children?" "How are you, Camellia? Oh, and you lot." "Camellia, dear, how wonderful to see you! And all you, too."

"Whatever," I dismissed him with a wave of my hand and went to keep following the others when he said,

"I bet Stephen's already owled mum."

That stopped me. "I don't care," I told him harshly.

I could hear the grin in his voice. "Yeah you do."

"Don't talk to me," I said brutally, walking away before he could say anything more. I made a mental vow never to speak to him again during the term.

"Oh, there you are," Lacey said when I caught up to her. "I was wondering where you were." I bet she wasn't, though. Again, this is when the social 'laws' come into effect.

"I just had a matter to take care of," I told her.

"Cool," Lacey replied, trying to sound interested. "So do you want to grab beds next to each other?"

"Alright," I said nonchalantly. Maybe Lacey wouldn't be so bad after all.

"There you are," someone puffed behind us. It was Cameron.

"Here we are," I replied sarcastically.

We were led down, were it gradually got colder. I didn't mind, though- I liked the cold. We stopped in a stone passage and the prefect said the password, "Blood-traitor". I tried not to let it affect me, though. The way I saw it, whilst at Hogwarts I was not a Weasley, but away at home I could rant about all the stuffy purebloods as much as I liked.

The common room was decorated excessively in green and silver. There was a fire flickering in the middle of one of the walls, with several armchairs surrounding it and couches, chairs and tables packed in the erst of the room. I was shocked to see that we actually had windows- high up, beyond my reach, and they didn't let any light in then, because it was dark. They were small- but they were there.

The walls were made of grey stone, with several tapestries having been hung and thick rugs on the hard stone floors. There were several chandeliers hanging overhead, but instead of being filled with light bulbs or what not, they were filled with candles, giving the room a soft glow.

The overall effect was not very homey, though. The cold draught could still be felt, and the leather chairs might have been something out of an extremely rich person's home for show and not use.

"I like it," Lacey announced, wandering in and seating herself gently down on one of the plush chairs. "It's just like home." I obviously had a few things to learn when it came to living in luxury.

"That's what's so bad about it," I heard Cameron mutter behind me. "It's just like home."

I sat down opposite Lacey, and Cameron sat down next to her. "Who was that kid?" I asked, remembering the fight in the Great Hall.

"Oh." Lacey looked around to check if anyone was listening. "That was Donell Rosier."

I snorted aloud at the name. I would never get over purebloods and their obsession with naming kids strange names. My grandmother had done it too- although all of their names could be shortened to something remotely normal.

"Don't mess with him, Mel," Cameron warned.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, right. He's your third cousin?" I asked cruelly, driving the point home that all purebloods are inbred.

"Fourth twice removed," Lacey answered for him." He's my third."

I stared at her. "You know his relatives?" I asked in shock. I couldn't even come up with a mean comment.

Lacey nodded. "Father made me memorise all the pureblood lines."

"What sort of people _are_ your family?" I asked coldly.

Lacey narrowed her eyes and glared at me. "At least they aren't mudbloods," she answered grimly, like it was a crime. In the world of Lacey Patterson, though, it _was_ a crime. I was lucky to have been the only one in my family not born with red hair- I had mild brown like my mum- otherwise I'm sure she would have scorned me from the moment I sat down opposite her.

"What about your family?" I asked Cameron, settling back on the chair. "Why is their name so familiar?"

Once again, Cameron glanced around timidly before answering. "My uncles have been convicted," he said bitterly.

"Convicted?" I repeated, wanting to know more just so I could shove it in his face whenever he taunted me about being a mudblood.

Lacey rolled her eyes. "You know," she said arrogantly. "Azkaban? Wizard prison?"

I glared at her. "I'm not retarded," I answered hotly. "What did they do though?"

"They're supporters," Cameron said, all the while looking around.

"Of who- oh!" I exclaimed loudly, so several people turned to stare icily at me. "Oh."

"Get used to it," Lacey said, bored. "It's not something special."

"Damn right-" I began.

"Everyone here can boast that," she finished. "Well, except for you. And my brother was telling me about a blood-traitor in fifth year. Apparently he is against him."

"In case you've forgotten," I said bluntly, "he's _gone._ Nada. Not alive."

Lacey rolled her eyes, and even Cameron agreed. "So? People still want to carry on his work. And besides, some people still think that he might come back."

"And do you?" I challenged.

Suddenly Cameron's eyes blazed and he sat up straight. "You can never," he said roughly, putting his head close to mine, "ever speak of this conversation again. Okay? And forget about it. Forget everything we said." He stood up abruptly and walked off to the boy's dormitories without a backward glance.

I stood staring at the entrance to the dormitories. "What was that all about?" I asked Lacey, but she was busy staring hard at her nails.

"I think we'd better go to bed now," she said finally, carefully avoiding my eyes. We walked to the girl's dormitories. Inside the passageway were two staircases. One went down, whilst the other went up. "I think it's this one," she decided, heading up the staircase while I followed, still brooding about the conversation. Did that mean Voldemort would come back?

Lacey was right and we stopped outside a door that had a notice in barely legible writing, 'First year girls'.

She pushed the old wooden door open and it protested loudly, but we took no notice. Why would we care if we woke everyone up? Their own fault for coming to bed so early. Inside it was fairly roomy, rectangular, unlike the Gryffindor dormitories, which were round. There were five beds against the side of one long wall, with medium sized wardrobes at the foot of each bed. At one end was a door, to which I could only assume was the bathroom.

Each of the beds had rich green drapes around them, lined with silver. The bed covers were a brilliant emerald green, also embroidered with silver around the edges. There were several plush rugs on the floor, and a couple of armchairs against the short end of the room. There was a small bedside table next to each bed, with a single candle placed neatly on it.

"Which two beds are free, do you think?" Lacey was busy peering in the bathroom.

"These ones," I replied. They were closest to the dormitory door, but other than that they were the same as all the others. I let Lacey take the one next to the other girl; I would have the end one. At least I had a wall on which I could hang photographs.

"Night, Mel," she said softly, and I was struck by how she could be so cold and distant one moment and warm and inviting the next.

"Night Lacey," I replied, trying not to snigger. At least one thing could be said for the Slytherin dormitories- their beds were comfortable.


End file.
